Mom nagged me to wear a helmet. Something about how only at-risk youth frequented places like a skatepark. I was going to wear one anyways but my afro puffs couldn't fit underneath it. I went to Busy Bee and Toya gave me cornrows with a heart shaped part by my ear. Blowing a gust of air through clenched teeth, I left the salon. The braids were tight but pretty hurts.
Groups of men in hard hats and highlighter yellow vests were scattered along the streets. The neighborhood—Heglo—was undergoing a makeover. Or as Zeriah would say, gentrification at its finest.
I jumped into the backseat of Henry's car. Mere minutes later we rounded the corner. We heard the park before we saw it. Their powerful surround sound system played music for the whole neighborhood to hear. I grabbed my tote bag with my helmet and rollerblades in it. I told Henry to meet me in a few hours. He didn't like sitting in his car for too long because it made him look suspicious.
November's chill cut through the fabric of my thermals and jumpsuit. Strong winds breezed through the bare trees overhead. A familiar head sat at a bench watching his surroundings. Walking in his direction, I tried not to move the muscles in my face too much. If I smiled a few tears would escape me. Not tears of joy, but tears from the tension in my head.
"Milo," I waved.
"Zaydence, heyy," he leaned forward and patted my back. Hugs were priceless, bro hugs included.
You're touch starved.
He and I joined the line of skaters waiting to enter the park. Oddly, I was overdressed. Tank tops and cargo shorts or leotards were the popular choices. We stood under a cloud of weed which I feared I would get a contact high from. He didn't seem to mind.
The line stopped.
Two buff men with security on their shirts stood in the doorway arguing with a string bean shaped young man. They stood under a large tent labeled SECURITY CHECKPOINT.
"What the fuck?" the young man's voice boomed.
"No weapons," one of the security guards said in a calm voice. His bulging muscles, shaved head, and domineering stature didn't match the cadence of his voice. He towered over most of us and instilled a certain fear that I only felt from my parents. This man wasn't taking fodd from anyone.
"Can't be naked in these streets, I need that."
"No acceptions."
"Am I gon get it back?"
"We ain't holdin' nothin'."
His anger grew tenfold as he realized they weren't going to give him what he wanted.
He raised his voice and began screaming about how unfair it all was.
He called them idiots for building a park in a not-so-safe neighborhood and throwing away weapons.
Local police escorted him off of the premises.
The police? Seriously? Those guards are huge.
"Finally," I exclaimed, "Line's moving again."
Milo replied, "They arrested him."
"He threatened them."
"Threatened? Seriously?"
Was I wrong? That man was threatening the security guards, putting his hands in their faces, screaming at them, calling them names, and Milo was upset with me? What did I do? Rules were rules.
Did we see the same event unfold? The security guards were doing their job. The young man didn't have to lose his cool like that. If he would've responded calmly, maybe they could've worked something out.
A young woman turned around and sneered in my direction. "When Hurston said, all skin folk ain't kinfolk, I see what she meant."
Another person chimed in, "How you talk about a brotha like that? You know how the po-po is,"
"A Black man was arrested by the Salsingo police. Right in front of you. Does that mean anything to you?"
"Her ass a oreo forreal."
What was a private conversation between Milo and I transformed into an intense shaming. They berated me as if I was a child who'd broken an expensive vase. I was outnumbered. Their vicious words sprayed vitriol on my face.
Wyatt wasn't here to defend me. His protection and connections went so far.
This is what you wanted.
To stand alone.
I folded my arms over my torso, the wheels of rollerblade dug into my right thigh. Privacy was a privilege. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that people were recording. Waiting for something controversial to leave my mouth. I faced forward. If I ignored them, they would see how irrational they were being and leave me alone.
I stepped underneath the tent. Milo went to a separate line for people without bags. I placed mine on the table. A woman guard told me to hold my arms out to the side and empty my pockets. Luckily, I packed light today.
She picked up a black wand and waved it across me like a T. She told me to turn around and took her time wanding the back of me. I was a head taller than her but it still shouldn't have taken that long. She tied a purple wristband on the strap of my tote bag and called for the next person.
I shuffled into the skatepark with the people in front of me. Wooden ramps, foam pits, neon lights, and music louder than my internal dialogue welcomed me. I lost Milo in the process. I stayed near the entrance so he would see me.
Milo walked through the door, tucking his skateboard under his arm, and pulled me to the side, "Are you okay?"
I would be lying if I said I was. I missed Wyatt. Wyatt would've never left me alone like that. Why didn't Milo have my back? He had put distance between us and stayed quiet. Those strangers could've tried to hurt me. Would he have stepped in if things escalated? Maybe, he thought it wasn't right for him—as a white person—to speak in that conversation.
Milo's a good person.
He wouldn't let anything happen to you.
"A little spooked."
He grabbed my hands, "You're shaking. I didn't realize how scary that was for you. Do you want to talk about it?" He led me to a quiet spot by a wall of dark blue lockers. His skateboard dropped to the floor.
"I always say the wrong thing. Those huge guards didn't need to involve the police. Honestly, that's what I think but it didn't come off like that."
"Yeah, the police was unnecessary," he dragged his thumbs across my knuckles until my hands stopped shaking, "I hope this didn't ruin our date."
Were these cornrows cutting off the circulation in my brain? Did he say we were on a date? I must've misheard him.
I went to the front desk and paid for a locker. I put on my rollerblades and chucked my snow boots into the locker. Milo used the leftover space to put his portable charger in there. My years of experience took place in roller rinks, and outside. Wyatt was never interested and that was the sole reason this was my first time at a skatepark. Having fun without limitations lifted a weight off of my chest.
"Here, I'll do it," he took the helmet out of my hands,"You look really cute with the heart on the side. I meant to tell you earlier." he slid it over my head and fastened it. His calloused fingers brushed my jaw. I couldn't look away. All I saw was him.
"Thank you."
Is he flirting with you?
I moved towards a large ramp which fed into a foam pit.
Standing at the top, I pushed off.
I careened towards the pit and free-fell into it. Tucking my face into my chin, and bending my knees, I made contact with the soft foam blocks. Nothing was holding me back. I was free. I needed to do that again.
"Woo," Milo kicked off on his board and pulled me out of the pit. "I took a video. You look unreal!" he showed a clip of me in mid-air like a bird taking flight.
"Crisp quality," I complimented him. He was moving while recording yet the video was still. The clip was crisp like a professional had done it.
I jumped into the pit a few more times and the initial awe wore off. He skated in the bowl, picking up speed and grabbing his board before letting it touch the ground again.
We raced each other.
He dared me to ride on the rails.
"You want me to what!"
"Come on!" he smiled, "I'll catch you."
He stood on the other end of the short horizontal rail with his arms outstretched. I advanced on the rail and hopped. As promised, he caught me. The wheels of my rollerblades were still rolling. I used the brake on the back end of my left foot.
"I'm right here. I've got you," he gave me a little squeeze.
"I am. Never. Doing that again,"
I covered my face. My heart escaped its cage of bones and flesh. I didn't move out of his grasp right away. I looked at his mouth. What would it be like to kiss him?
Milo asked, "What?"
"This is a," I motioned between us, "A date?"
"Yeah," his long brown hair shook as he nodded. "I've been obvious. Maybe not enough." He leaned forward and kissed me. Short and sweet. Like him.
Milo had no idea how happy I was. How long I waited for that moment. I've harbored feelings for him since freaking July. Things were looking up for me.
I knew that if we went on more dates, and decided to be boyfriend-girlfriend, my asexuality would come up. Kissing was fine, but anything more was unnecessary. That conversation would come and I needed to let myself enjoy what was happening now.
"Definitely a date," I laughed.
(A/N) What did you think of the chapter?
Did the characters behave in ways you didn't expect?
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